


i had no choice

by yikesmikey



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath, Angst, Feels, Jaytim - Freeform, M/M, Rape/non-con aftermath, Tension, i didn’t proof read this, implied sex??, it doesn’t really make anything better?, it’s not good, look i made this to help myself but it’s helping no one, my ! grammar ! sucks !, ok i’m genuinely sorry here, sorry - Freeform, this is an unofficial second part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 15:07:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18122753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yikesmikey/pseuds/yikesmikey
Summary: unofficial part 2 of @seadreams’ You Can’t Have My Brother.tim and jason try to talk about what happened but they don’t really get anywhere but sad





	i had no choice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seadreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seadreams/gifts).
  * Inspired by [You Can't Keep My Brother](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17860304) by [seadreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seadreams/pseuds/seadreams). 



> sorry for the lower case, i didn’t have the energy to turn on auto-capitalization🤷🤷
> 
> read the other (official) part if u want this to make sense
> 
> and i’m sorry

> it had been weeks since the incident with roman, and still tim was haunted with nightmares. he felt gross, wrong. he felt dirty, no matter how many cold showers he took. there was such a deep wrongness about him, and by association everything he did. even publicly as tim drake-wayne, he was sloppy, not to mention his vigilante duties.

 

he was a mess, to say the least. a self loathing mess. 

 

not to mention jason. tim hadn’t really been able to have a legitimate conversation with jason since the  incident, but he knew he wasn’t better off. dick had taken up the task of letting tim in on everything that was going on with jason now. in some ways, tim was grateful. it was… comforting, somehow, to know how jason was, especially with bruce still helicoptering over them. on the other hand, it was  _ so much harder _ to convince himself that it never happened when he’s hearing about jason’s pain too. 

 

even with how completely and utterly  _ fucked _ this whole thing was, tim would still see jason occasionally. in the cave, crossing paths on patrol. as far as tim could see, jason had moved on. back to his cold, cocky self. he covered up any pain he felt just as he always did; incredibly well. but tim knew. he could tell in the way jason wouldn’t meet his gaze or the way he would change paths if they were on the same route. 

 

jason was just as messed up as tim was. except jason was the victim, and even now, tim hadn’t been able to apologize. not properly. 

 

tim was a monster. a disgusting person, and he couldn’t stand to live with himself a second longer.

 

but he didn’t have a choice.

 

and one night, after one drink too many and wet, wet eyes, he decided enough was enough. he  _ had  _ to talk to jason. apologize. something.

 

anything to relieve his conscience, really. because tim was selfish, and he’d accepted that, and it was time that he finally fucking do something about it.

 

the tracker on jason’s helmet had long since been disconnected, and really, all forms of communication had been shut off between them. 

 

so he did what he could. he called dick.

 

“tim?” dick’s voice was croaky and slurred over the phone.

 

“dick. i,” tim sighed, “i need to talk to jason. i have to. he has to know how sorry i am. he. god. fuck. i’m so sorry, how do i—? help me, please, i don’t—“

 

“tim, man, it’s 2:27 in the morning. can’t this wait?” dick asked, not really expecting his protest to go anywhere. he’d honesty been expecting this for a while. tim was never one to move on.

 

“no. no, dick, it can’t, it. i don’t. i need to tell him. he-  _ god, fuck. _ help.” tim was panicking, he knew he was. he’d been panicky almost every night recently. 

 

dick sighed, tim could hear him shuffling from the other end of the line. “okay,” he said, still sounding tired, “i’ll send you his newest address. pretty sure he’s there tonight. he uh…” dick trailed off, something thumped in the distance. “he won’t pick up if you call him. just… go to him. be careful.”

 

tim didn’t wait a second longer. with a hoodie that was at least two sizes too big and jeans he hadn’t washed in days, he jumped on his bike and followed the coordinations dick had given him.

 

it took about 10 minutes to get there— 10 minutes that tim spent rolling through every possible scenario he could think of. he was scared, honestly. so fucking scared.

 

and when he pulled up in front of the apartment complex dick said jason was at, tim could swear his heart would pound out of his chest.

 

it was a smaller building, maybe only nine or ten apartments. it was beyond run down, too many of the outer windows broken and boarded up. still, it seemed like the sort of place jason would choose, so he trusted it. 

 

it wasn’t hard to get to apartment 2a. he scaled the building to the second floor and busted in the old wooden boards that covered the window at the end of the hallway. and then he stood in front of jason’s door. he stood there for probably too long, staring at the rusted lettering on the door. 2a, in what once was probably gold. 

 

tim could hardly breathe. jason was- probably- on the other of this door. the jason that he fucked. the jason that he was forced to fuck. the jason that still flinched whenever tim was too close. the jason that he lost.

 

he briefly considered turning back around, going home and forgetting this had ever happened. but he was already here, and if not now, then probably never. this has been a long time coming, anyways.

 

he reached a fist up- which was shaking an embarrassing amount- and knocked lightly on the door. 

 

nothing for a minute, so tim knocked again. then a thumping sound and heavy, shuffling footsteps, and the door cracked open. jason’s not-quite-blue eye peered through the crack, and tim would be lying if he said he didn’t notice the dread that it showed once he realized who was there.

 

“jason,” tim sighed, but jason shut the door. hard. tim expected that to be it, for this interaction to be over and for tim to go home and drink himself to bed. a second later, though, jason opened the door and tim realized he’d only been unlocking the chain.

 

jason silently held the door open and stepped aside; a sign for tim to enter. so he did, he stepped into the small apartment, unsure of what to do with himself.

 

the apartment wasn’t much better off then the rest of the building. the wallpaper was chipped and peeling and there were sizeable cracks in the ceiling, revealing concrete and rusty pipes. the place smelled like mould and cigarette smoke, yet it was somehow comforting. it was somehow jason, and as good any place for a safe house, tim supposed.

 

“so,” tim said, turning to face jason, who’d closed the door. jason met his gaze for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, and tim almost melted. his chest tightened with guilt.  _ i’m sorry! i had to!  _ but he couldn’t force the words past his lips. 

 

god, he shouldn’t have come here. 

 

“we. we should talk.” tim finally managed to spit out. he still felt awkward and stiff, unsure of how  _ the fuck _ he was supposed to act here.

 

“uh. yeah.” jason said, obviously uncomfortable, “take a seat.”

 

and so tim sat, also uncomfortable, on the edge of the couch in the small (small) living room. “i’m sorry.” he says before he can think to filter it. “i’m sorry for everything, i didn’t. i didn’t have a choice, you…”

 

and the way jason looks up at him breaks tim’s heart. jason’s visibly upset as he sits down on the loveseat across from tim. “i don’t wanna talk about this.” jason says, so quiet tim thinks he might have misheard him. “can’t we just, i don’t know, forget it happened? i don’t wanna think about it.”

 

“you think i do?” tim sounds more defensive then he means to, but. “you think i wanna dwell on it? i’ve been doing everything i can to forget it, but i can’t. i hate myself.” jason looks up at him then, startled, almost, “and don’t try to tell me you’re okay with it, cause i know you’re not. you’re struggling too.”

 

jason’s just staring at him now. he looks so upset, so  _ raw _ that it hurts to look at. tim can’t remember a time jason’s looked smaller. he looks too weak to be red hood, too sad. but he doesn’t talk, of course he doesn’t, he’s jason todd.

 

so tim talks for him.

 

“look, i know it’s disgusting. i know it’s gross, but we’re not getting anywhere by pretending nothing happened! i can’t. i can’t fucking live with myself. what i did to you—“ tim cringes at his choice of words, “i’m sorry. i know you’re disgusted with me, but say  _ something.” _

 

“im not disgusted with you.” jason says, so suddenly it surprises tim. “i’m disgusted with me. i’m disgusted that i liked it. i’m disgusted that the first-  _ only-  _ time i’ll get to have sex with you, it was like  _ that.” _ jason looks mad now. mad and upset and something else. something like disappointment. 

 

tim can’t breathe. he swears he didn’t hear any of that right, because there’s  _ no goddamn way _ jason-fucking-todd would  _ want _ to sleep with him? that can’t be what he meant. it can’t be. 

 

but the way jason meets his eyes makes him think otherwise. there’s no way a person should be able to express so much in their eyes alone, but jason pulls it off. he looks sorry. sorry that he couldn’t do better,  _ be  _ better, tim couldn’t tell. 

 

“i’m sorry you had to see me like that,” jason continues, and tim has to fight back the image of jason whining, naked and ready for him. “i’m sorry it had to be you.”

 

“jason,“

 

jason sighs, looks down. he won’t look at tim now, he’s picking at his fingernails nervously. it takes a moment for him to speak again.

 

“i want you to leave now.” he mumbles, and tim swears he can hear his voice crack.

 

tim stares at him for a moment. then he stands up stiffly, walking on shaky legs towards the door. distantly, he recognizes jason standing up as well, following to close the door behind him.

 

only when tim’s hand is on the doorknob does jason say anything again. “i guess i should thank you.” he says, quietly, “you saved me.”

 

  1. _no, i hurt you. i’m sorry._ tim turns around, faster then he meant to.



 

“ _ no _ .”

 

jason looks at him, startled. 

 

“no, i didn’t save you. i’m sorry,  _ god _ , i’m so fucking sorry. i. jay, i would have done anything not to do that to you. i hate that— fuck.  _ fuck.  _ im sorry.” it rushes out of his mouth before he really has time to process. jason is looking at him in a way that’s too cautious, and tim can feel his throat tighten. “i didn’t save you.” 

 

jason’s staring at him now. they’re a couple feet apart, and tim is reminded just how much  _ bigger _ jason is then him. he’s taller and broader,  _ stronger,  _ and there’s no way tim should have been able to hurt him like that. there’s a pain in jason’s eyes, the creases of his brow and the frown on his lips. he’s hurting, that much is obvious, but there’s something else. something that could be remorse, or maybe guilt. maybe regret.

 

and tim’s voice is cracking and shaking as he speaks. “i’m sorry, jason.” his throat hurt to talk and his heart hurt to leave.

 

it hangs in the silence for a moment, clear as day.

 

and then jason was stepping closer to him, too close, tim could smell the ash on his breath when he speaks. “please leave.” a whisper.

 

tim didn’t need years of detective training to know that that’s not what jason wanted, it was obvious in his body language and his voice and his  _ eyes _ , but tim wasn’t in any place to argue.

 

tim met jason's eyes as he turned the doorknob and slipped out into the hall. he could hear jason lock the deadbolt when he closed the door behind him.

 

there was a crash from behind the door, and what could have been a choked sob, and tim was left in the dark, cold silence of the building.

 

he punched a hole in the wall when he got home.

 

_ god, he hoped things would get better. _


End file.
